


The Enemy

by sleepingcets



Category: Pearl S Buck, The Enemy - Fandom, no - Fandom
Genre: CBSE, Cringe, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, FML, Gay, Gen, Infidelity, M/M, Other, Smut, The Enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingcets/pseuds/sleepingcets
Summary: This is a fan fiction of a short story by Pearl S Buck by the same name. It started as a stupid ship we made when bored in class. Then I got way too invested and wrote this. It turned out kinda nice and I’m kinda proud of it so here we are :)
Relationships: Sadao/Hana?, Tom/Sadao
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. fuckmylife

**Author's Note:**

> You may wanna read the actual story before this to get a basic idea about things. It’s kinda long so don’t bother if you don’t want to  
> http://nelliemuller.com/The-Enemy-Pearl.S.Buck.htm
> 
> If you’re into listening to music while reading, I made a playlist :)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1GyolORqDTabQts9mKKRTV?si=MyqSPoR6QZ6ENGOPeTQoUA

I still remember certain moments like it happened only a day ago. But there are also the ones I have in my mind in bits and pieces alone- pieces that leave me with some aplomb that I can put it all in the past and forget. But, the thought of forgetting isn’t all that comforting for reasons my mind can’t comprehend yet. 

Of the many things I do remember, one is the night we found him. It’s all so clear in my head. His long tanned face, bruised and red. Long golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead and a careless looking beard, as golden as those strands, covering the lower part of his face. His skin, though rough with exposure, had been of a fine texture. The pain I felt on seeing him like that had been unreal. I’d told myself then that it was my doctor’s mind that caused this. Inspite of the incidents that have occurred since, I still believe so. 

How would our lives be now, if we’d chosen to stick to our original plan? Left him to the mercy of the sea?  
Would I be the same person I am today? I don’t know.  
Did something inside me change after his stay with us? That too I’m not sure of.  
How can we assess our changes when we are constantly with ourselves? Just the way parents don’t see their little ones grow up, we fail to see the changes we undergo over the course of time.  
In fact, time is irrelevant if you’re always present. If we were immortal, time wouldn’t even matter.  
When there’s always a tomorrow, we would never worry about what time it is today. 

~

We’d taken him inside, after fighting our respective internal battles between conscience and what was supposed to be patriotism. I’d tended to his wounds on the beach itself and could see his state was rather pitiful.  
Hana had decided to have Yumi get him cleaned up. I didn’t trust the maid . I’d wanted to do it myself. Only out of my wish to make sure everything was done perfectly.  
She disagreed to clean him up, of course.  
“I have never washed a white man and I will not wash so dirty a one now”,she’d said. The audacity of the woman had left Hana surprised and angry. She’d taken the task into her own hands.  
Her independent nature is one I’ve always had high regard for. 

Hana was always too simple and I found in that simplicity an unusual comfort. Her simplicity made things ordered and without any changes or surprises. She always had things under control. Wasn’t a worrying mess, constantly hurtling around when she had to get things done.  
I did not like changes. I was fine with a monotonous life as long as it was immutable. This gives you a rather dry picture about my spirit and I must say I fully own up to it. I also like to believe we all have that resistance to change.  
When every single atom that makes up our body has inertia and refuses to change then why won’t our body as a whole have it too? A life unchangeable with time sounds perfect to me. That way I didn’t have to worry of tomorrow. If tomorrow were to be the same as today, then why worry about it?


	2. whyhesohot¿

His stay in our home, I remember only in parts. Bits that don’t fit in like pieces in a puzzle. This greatly hurts my perfectionistic head. But my efforts to try and recall the events have often left me with less knowledge than I’d started off with. 

I do remember significant days like the day I’d operated on him. Hana had had a hard time because of her uneasiness with blood. This gave me a kind of joy I still don’t understand. I never thought of myself as a sadist but that day has me wondering sometimes.  
When she’d left to empty her stomach of the morning’s food, I’d suddenly felt powerful. The almost lifeless man before me was under my control. His fate was in my hands. That brought more joy to me. I’d wanted to take his life at that very instant out of the plain reason that I could.   
I could see myself hurting him on purpose. My stealthy hands knew how to do these things without hurting but I got great gratification from inflicting pain to the helpless being before me.   
And then, he’d groaned. He was still unconscious but he was in great pain. This had made me freeze. The groan left me feeling queasy because it made me realise how evil I was being, but predominantly, it had turned me on. I’d found myself confused. But I’d not dared let these feelings grow. I’d suppressed them the moment I came to know of their existence. I’d learnt well enough from my father’s ruler what was right and what wrong. I did not need the authorities to remind me. I’d muttered to myself unconsciously. Another groan.   
~  
Thankfully Hana had decided to put aside her troubles and help me when she’d heard him. I had to hide my lower body by spreading out the surgical tools on my crossed legs. But I really needed her to help me so I could complete the surgery and at least have a try at saving his life.   
She’d bent down and brought the anaesthetic to his nose and that had stopped the groans. I’d found the bullet, fortunately away from any vital organ and removed it soon after.   
After the surgery, I asked Hana to bring some warm water to clean him up. Although she didn’t want to, trying to be a dutiful wife she offered to do it. I declined her offer politely and decided to do it myself. This was the most I saw of him in daylight. His thin pale arms. Ribs sticking out of his milky white chest, only slightly matted golden. He looked almost like a corpse, his skin so pale and bloodless. But my eyes wouldn’t stop their exploration. They wanted to memorise each sharp bend of his lean form.   
After washing him up I decided I must write a letter to the Chief,sooner or later. For the country’s good or my own, I didn’t know. But it had to be done.


	3. heishealing,iamhorny

The first time he’d woken up I’d been at work. Hana had said he’d looked terrified. Inspite of our circumstances then, I’d pitied the young thing. It wasn’t his fault that the war had happened. He was just as helpless as us civilians. Probably had been forced to fight for his country suddenly.  
But of course I knew what this meant. It was time for him to leave. His presence was a threat to our entire family and if not for my sake, at least for Hana and the kids I’d have to clear him out.  
He was fine enough to get up and about soon. In fact, on the third day, he’d gotten up without my consent. So his health had become a lot better. But the better he got, the more I began to worry. He had tried to speak but I’d cut him off. I was still living in denial then I suppose.  
~  
The servants had begun to speak about it too. The gardener was an annoyance. The only reason we hadn’t sent him off was because of the history he had with father. He was the one that had put a beginning to their revolt. They’d left saying they’d return only if we sent him away. It wasn’t that simple. These people failed to understand that. They’d been institutionalised well by the country.  
He’d walked a little more that day. His healing had pleased me. My efforts had been fruitful. And yet it had also left me restless. 

The servants’ departure had left Hana very disturbed. When the messenger had come to take me, as the General had had another attack, she’d panicked. We’d handled the situation alright but I knew he had to be disposed off. I’d informed the General about him and he’d offered to have him killed by his private assassins. I had agreed then because I didn’t have an alternative. The fact that the assassins may appear on just about any day and kill him had haunted me throughout the following nights. I’m so glad the self absorbed man had completely forgotten about it. 

That day, when I’d returned home he’d gotten up and was about to walk to the garden. When I’d asked him who gave him the permission to leave his room he’d said he wasn’t used to waiting for permission. The attitude!  
“Gosh! I feel pretty good again! But will the muscles on this side always feel stiff?”  
I knew it wouldn’t and exactly why it had happened. But I seized the opportunity to touch him and lift his shirt, felt his body under my hands. His body was delicate and pretty. I didn’t like the way my mind had been thinking lately. 

After multiple sleepless nights of walking to his room and back to mine, worrying the assassins had come into our house, especially a formidable one where even Hana had been frightened by my terror, I decided I had to do something about this man myself.  
I couldn’t obviously have myself stare at him every night, rush to his room, looking for his chest rise in shallow breathing each time I heard as much as a rustle of the curtains.  
The day after the crash that had woken Hana up, he said he was well. I took this as an opportunity.  
“Yes, you are well. Well enough to be sent off on a boat on the shore, with food and extra clothing in it. You might be able to row to that little island not far from the coast. Nobody lives there because it gets submerged during storm. But this is not the season of storm. You’ll find a Korean ship in a few days and can go off on it. “  
“Do I have to?”, he’d asked reluctantly.  
“I think so. You understand - it is not hidden that you’re here.”  
“Okay”  
I hadn’t seen much of him for the rest of the day. I’d purposely avoided him multiple times because I’d felt guilty sending him off like that. 

In the evening, I dragged the boat down and had it ready for him to leave. I checked his vitals one last time. His pulse was irregular, perhaps from excitement. Pink lips pressed together and blue grey eyes burned. The scars on his neck were bright red. I wanted to lick them. (Sadao being kinky and all. Ofc I needed some licking)  
I gave him instructions on how to not be seen and how to signal in case he needed something.  
“I realise you’re saving my life again”,he’d told me.  
I’d replied something dry. I didn’t like this decision I was making but I had no choice.  
I’d had him dress up in my clothes. The only clothes that belonged to him were bloody and I’d had to cut them and remove them from his body on the first day. He had a part of me now. He was a part of me. It felt trite but also felt warm in a weird way.

I’d told the General he’d escaped. The man was only glad after the lack of responsibility on his part.  
“You are a good man. You will be rewarded.“ he’d said.  
I must agree with that now.


	4. that’sastart

After sending him off to the island, I found my overthinking self constantly worrying and found myself going over to check how he was doing almost everyday. He may have physically recovered but to survive a war and return untouched mentally is impossible. He was weak inside.   
I couldn’t let my patient go back to how he was in the start after all my efforts.   
So, I decided to visit him everyday after work. Hana was rather pleased by the sudden care I’d developed after the indifference I’d shown the past few days.   
Inspite of my dull spirit that hated changes, I soon found myself looking forward to these daily meets.   
This small change in routine filled my spirit with the excitement brought by the unfamiliar. We would just sit on a log-the closest thing to furniture he could find on the island, I assumed- quietly in the moonlight, because a bonfire was not safe at this hour. We didn’t speak much. Me-mostly out of the guilt that had still been there within me for what I was doing and him-because of how I’d responded the first time he had tried.   
But there was a peace in our muteness. As we sat there on the island, its only two inhabitants being us, I found myself feeling that familiar longing I’d felt. All those years back. Back in America. When Hana and I had decided to get married.   
We had decided we wouldn’t go at it until we got married. She-because of her love and belief in the sanctity of marriage but me-more out of the pleasure I derived from the longing.   
Some things are like that. The thought of its arrival brings more joy than the actual arrival. The knowledge that the day we’ll finally have what we’ve been wanting for so long is near sometimes gives us more joy that its actual fulfilment.  
~  
Soon we took to listening to the wavering of old Japanese patriotic songs, on the radio I had decided to bring with me so it would fill up the gap that seemed to disturb him. The song was rather ironic to our situation, but he didn’t understand that, of course. We were careful to not play it too loud in case it attracted someone’s attention but the silent wavering with the sound of the slow waves beating the seashore was a kind of music of its own.   
His figure shifted in the moonlight, as the moon hid behind the clouds, only to reappear soon after, brighter than she was when she’d left. All I got where glimpses of his face, and entire body.   
He was in my kimono. He looked small and timid in the kimono. It was a size or two too big for him. It made me feel powerful and old.


	5. blueskiesblueeyes

On one such night, the radio suddenly stopped. I should’ve known when I’d decided to walk to the boat in the rain.  
The sudden silence was tormenting. I felt an urge to fill it up because I saw in his face a loneliness as we sat in the moonlight, his head held in his hands.  
“So, you said your name was Tom, right?”, I tried to start a conversation.  
Why did I have to be so bad at this? Why does it have to be so hard? Just say something I’d told myself. Talk about anything. Before I’d worried myself further for a topic to speak on, he’d taken complete advantage of my initiative. 

“Yes sir, and I don’t know how to express my gratefulness to you and your- your very kind wife for being so kindhearted to me in the current circumstances. Even though it was-it was completely unnecessary and very dangerous for you. I wish I could do something in return but as you can see I’m rather helpless and can’t even provide for myself right now. I will make sure I repay you once I reach back home and am able to earn through whatever means sir. I’m sorry for all the trouble-”  
“You really don’t have to do this. There’s no need to thank me.I’m doing this out of my free will and you don’t have to feel guilty about it.”,it didn’t look like he’d planned to ever stop his confused rambling if I hadn’t interrupted. I’d regretted my try at a conversation.  
He was quiet after that. Like he’d read my mind and knew I didn’t want to talk any further about the matter at hand. Or talk about anything at all for that matter.  
What happened next was what I’d least expected. What had changed the thing between us from peaceful silences to more strained and awkward ones. He placed a hand on my leg and gave me a look. A look that was unreadable and yet clearly spoke for itself. Sea blue eyes full of a million things. The gratefulness he’d expressed, the feelings he was keeping suppressed and something that looked like need. A longing to feel. More. I couldn’t return the look and looked down.  
“I should go. The children will make a fuss and be a great deal of trouble to their mother.”  
I left hurriedly, for in his eyes I saw my longing. Between his legs too. Even among all those scattered emotions on his face, that was clear as a frozen lake in winter. Just as fragile too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter has smut. Kinda smut but not very dirty, not very accurate but smut.


	6. thestarttheend

After that night, I found my eyes roaming without my approval or even awareness. But I didn’t think much of it because I knew it wasn’t right and that my father and his ruler had brought me up well enough to stay true to our morals.   
But it’s part of the human nature, isn’t it? Our eyes always have that inclination to the very thing our mind bears an aversion towards, or more precisely was trained to bear an aversion towards. Our eyes always beg us to look at exactly what we do not want to, what we are not supposed to.   
Our eyes are strange creatures. With a mind of their own. One that strongly contradicts our own. One that draws great gratification from our troubled mind. It wants us to be tormented. To be tortured and forces us to look at exactly what we have been warning ourself about all the while. 

The most troubling part of it had been that I found what I dreaded. Between those milky thighs that sometimes peaked out from under his kimono— his kimono that was once mine, that I’d walked in once and was being worn by him now.   
I found my mind traveling places it never had until now. My control over my body parts had slowly gone from limited to nil. My mind was next. I was only a being, watching everything from a distance. I was only allowed to spectate, I could not make decisions.   
~  
On his 6th day at the island, 2 days after that night, he hadn’t been at his usual spot when I’d gotten there. I was a little earlier than usual. I’d gone about the island in search of him and had reached the spot where we’d set up his tent on the first day.   
When I reached the entrance and moved aside the cloth that closed it, I froze. He was completely naked, his back to me. Maybe he had just taken a bath and had been changing. By the time my mind had assessed and understood the situation, he’d turned, hearing my heavy breathing.   
“I’m sorry, I’ll be outside. I didn’t mean to walk in on you changing. I just came a little earlier than usual.”   
“No no! Stay. I’m almost done”, he said and turned completely. Facing me and it’d taken everything in me to keep my eyes fixed to his face. He’d smirked seeing my strained face and had started to walk towards me. I had not expected that. My brain seemed to have forgotten how to function at first, then it did, but at a very slow pace.   
Before I knew it, he was right in front of me. Still stark naked.   
And two thin hands lift up my bent down face, initially put down out of shame but had found something that made it even worse. I lifted my head and looked into the vast blue oceans of his eyes.

And then, he kissed me. It took a while to feel his soft lips against mine. Had my brain always been this slow at processing? Or was it all the surprising turn of events that had left it defunct? Thin long fingers went from my face to the back of my neck. My hands were a roaming mess just like my brain.   
The guilt deep within was weighing me down. But the arousal growing between my legs was stronger and slowly clouding over my mind, over the things father had taught, over my own morals. I was mostly still stunned. But my hands had other plans as they roamed down his back and cupped his butt. The butt I’d been secretly fantasising over. It had embarrassed me so much that I’d been reluctant to own up to it, even to myself. I’d covered it up out of guilt until now and only my subconscious mind would take hurried peeks from time to time.  
But his touch was too much and I felt my restrain slowly peel off, like worn-out paint from an old wall. Felt the fantasies run wild in my head as they seemed to come true. His small cheeks felt right in my hands. It felt good. It felt bad but it felt real. And it was the realest rawest feeling I’d felt all my life. The butt I held in my hands were all I needed. I wondered how I had lived all these years without it. (So cheesy I can’t anymore but I just don’t know how to initiate a hand job) His hands slowly moved to mine and led them to his hardness. All control or restraint had fallen long ago. I sat him down on the bare sand. It felt weird. It was very dry and well, sandy. (I’m running out of things.) I stroked him and he let out a moan that had me harder than I already was. The thoughts of the last time he was lying down and had groaned flashed through my head and I felt my cheeks heat up thinking about how I’d turned hard in so grave a situation.   
Before he could cum he moved my hands to his neck. I was careful not to touch the red scars. I tried to be gentle. He started to kiss me again. His hands roaming into my kimono, slowly undressing me. He took me in his mouth and I let out what sounded like a grunt. I couldn’t hear myself. The pleasure was deafening, blinding. It had shut off all other senses. I came in his mouth soon after and he took it all in, leaving me rather embarrassed. He kissed me and I tasted it. It was raw and nothing like I’d ever felt. Hana was too modest to ever do anything so unconventional and dirty. But I found myself enjoying it. I knew I’d regret it after the heat of the arousal died out, but right now, all I wanted to do was feel. Feel the moment. His hands on me. His body and mine. Intertwined like strands of hair. My lips on his neck, yes I’d licked those scars. He’d let out a hiss at first but had moved his neck letting in more. I’d moved farther south, left more red marks next to the scars and on those divine shoulders. Marks I’d see later and be reminded of what we’d done. Reminded with both guilt and more longing.


	7. themoths¿

I’d woken up next to him on the sand, at waking hours. We’d probably dozed off. Hana would be worried. I found myself already making up excuses to tell her. Maybe I’ll say I was delayed at work and had been made to stay there. That happened rarely but it did. As I got up, I felt sparks of pain. I had known it would hurt. What I hadn’t expected was that the hurt would find itself coiled and twisted into sudden pangs of guilt.  
It was like the old butterflies in stomach feeling. Except it didn’t feel that pretty. It was ugly, it was moths.(no offence to moths)  
Inspite of all that, I still found myself admiring his face. His face more leonine now, with his golden mane spread around it, sand caked on his face by sweat, his broad honey shoulders covered in tiny red marks that left behind another trail of regret in my heart. I didn’t wake him up. I didn’t want small talk after what had happened. I rose and left. 

Hana didn’t even ask where I’d been. This worried me. Had she come to the island and found us lying there in the tent? No, there was only a single boat and I’d used that to go to him. 

Sitting for work was terrible. I’d squirm every now and then and be reminded again, of the indignant act I’d done in the height of pleasure, without thinking twice. That was so unlike me. What was he doing to me? Where was my mind?  
~

I’d decided to tell him that it was all a mistake and that it happening once didn’t make it any less unacceptable.  
He’d seemed to understand before I even opened by mouth. His rosy lips like a thin line. Even his eyes looked cloudy, reflecting the weather overheard. It looked like it’d rain in awhile.  
But I found myself initiating it this time. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. The longing had only increased after last night. Each squirm had brought with it arousal. Arousal that easily masked the guilt that was there too. Sitting on the log, I had to feel that face in my hands, feel him turn hard for me again. Because just the thought had me hard as a rock. I loved and hated what he was doing to me.  
My hands cupped his face and I kissed those pink succulent lips. My tongue slowly sliding into his honey sweet mouth. Our tongues and hands roamed to forbidden places and I was loving every second of it. I had to taste him. I sat down and took him in my mouth. The feeling was new and unfamiliar and yet so acquainted with. I didn’t know what to do but his hands sure did as they pushed me farther down his hard cock. I slowly gained momentum and moved according to the instructions given by the long fingers in my hair. Moans leaving me leaking. I was afraid I’d cum just hearing him. His voice had left me broken in pieces. From day one. But this. This was beyond me. I came in shudders. At just the sound of him. I don’t know how to feel about that.  
Soon after, he entered me. He hadn’t come yet. And I’d stopped my blowjob when I’d come hearing him.  
He’d been gentler the previous day. Careful not to hurt me. Today it was different. Almost like he wanted to hurt me. And for a sick moment I wanted it. I wanted him to hurt me. Scratch my back and leave marks. Bite into my shoulder. Tear me apart. Into a thousand small slivers of pleasure. I wanted bruises to remember this tomorrow, and day after, and everyday for the rest of my life.  
I felt him shoot into me and fall on me. Our bodies lay there, sweaty and tired on the sandy beach. It had begun to drizzle lightly. Or maybe I hadn’t noticed until then. I thought of what would happen if Hana had decided to check in on us and had found us here like this. Even that turned me on. I was a horny mess. He’d turned me into this mess. And I was loving every bit of this mess I’d turned into. I wanted to be this mess with him forever. Not feel anything deep and emotional. Just feel each other’s bodies like this. Feel him in my arms. Feel very inch of his body with my hands, my tongue.  
~  
I went off to work and had an actual night shift this time. I couldn’t have our regular meet up the next day.  
When I got home after the shift I thought of dropping by. But he was gone. The tent was still intact but the island felt lifeless. Maybe he’d gone fishing or swimming I tried to assure myself.  
After awhile I let the truth sink in. This day was to come anyway. But I hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Not after the past two nights. But this was for the better. For both of us. 

I didn’t cry. We hadn’t had much to cry over. But I knew I’d miss it. Not him though. Or maybe I was lying to myself as a last attempt at consolation for his sudden departure from my life.  
~  
Hana had told me a boat had passed by around 6 in the morning and he’d probably left by that. I was a pool of emotions, mostly of disappointment than sorrow.  
But the fact that he’d left without speaking a single word and that he hadn’t had the courtesy to have waited for me to leave, made me feel bitter. But of course it was selfish of me to think like that. It wasn’t everyday that a boat passed by. It was his only chance of a life. I couldn’t keep him from having that because of my greedy desires.  
I let him go mentally. I didn’t want him always stuck running from the bullets. I wanted him to be free. To have a nice life. He deserved it. He was a good boy. Forced into the futile conflicts of evil men devoid of human feelings.  
But I didn’t want him to be happy. Happy without me being a part of it. But I knew that was very selfish again. He deserved a lot more than what I had to offer. He knew that too. That’s why he’d left. But without a word of farewell. It hurt. It burnt. In places that have been left as gaping holes since. But they’ll close up with time.  
For weeks I’d felt empty. Dull. I wished I could just disappear and start anew. Go back in time and erase the reason. For my heart’s new sombre hue. For my soul’s never ending autumn season.  
But it did end. And winter came. I felt cold and distant from everything and everyone. Even the work I did. Inspite of my passion for it.  
But now I feel a few flowers blossom. I’ve learnt to leave it as just a part of my life. I’ve learnt to reminisce without feeling terrible or angry. I think spring is finally here.


	8. theend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite chapter so I really hope everyone made it till here and wasn’t bored before that :)

You’ll notice how I don’t say his name at all. I can’t. It’s something I’ve always had. Once I feel for a person, I can’t refer to them directly. It’s almost like they’re too perfect for my mortal being to refer to directly. Just like how a human can’t survive if they look directly at a Greek god in his true form. It’s too much for their mere flesh to be able to bear. Me acknowledging him by name, brings him out truly and brings him out in everything we’d done.  
I find that hard for me to believe-believe I truly had it with this man.  
I can’t say his name out loud. It sounds wrong in my mouth. My mouth is unworthy of uttering something so flawless.  
I can’t even hear it without feeling all the butterflies and moths rush out of my mouth.  
And yet, my eyes are in constant searching, for an allusion to him. On posters or names of shops. I’m in an eternal quest to find him. To find him in the things around me. In the things I do. In the things I feel. It’s strange and makes me uneasy. Why did feelings have to come so fast but take so long to go?

Maybe I should’ve fought for it. But it all doesn’t make any sense. Of course I can’t leave behind everything I’ve built in all these years. But sometimes I find myself again in a feeling of longing. I feel empty in places I didn’t know had gaps. Gaps I’d thought had closed up. Maybe they’re newly formed ones. They’re hard to live with. Maybe it’ll wear off with time. Everything does, right?

And yet, I can’t help but find myself loving the possibility of it.  
In the end, if it hadn’t been for his sudden departure. Maybe, just maybe I’d have done it. I’d have mustered the courage to whisper,  
“Stay. Till my soul leaves this futile being.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I’ve ever written anything and my smut was kinda bleh but I hope you liked it. Please give me suggestions on how to improve :)  
> thanks!


End file.
